Matches
by Koshka-Rayn
Summary: Three chapters. [Jack's very first believer was as much of a myth as he was.] [Jack didn't know his second believer for very long before he was gone, like a blown-out match.] [He had only just gotten to know him; he couldn't leave again so soon.] Jackrabbit; T for some sensitive materials. Warning: Attempted suicide, suicide, death of child.
1. Chapter 1

**CHAPTER ONE~**

**[Jack's very first believer was as much of a myth as he was.]**

"What's wrong, Frostbite?"

The teen visibly flinched, quickly rubbing his wrists across his eyes. "Wr-wrong? Nothing, nothing's wrong, why would something be-" he hiccupped, wiping his nose. "Wrong…?"

"You're…not really one to cry," Bunnymund crouched beside the frost sprite, gently nudging him. "What's up, mate?"

"_Nothing_," Jack shot him a dark look out of the corner of one bloodshot eye, half his face hidden behind the sleeve of his sweatshirt.

"_Jack_," Bunnymund fixed him with a knowing look, resting a hand on his shoulder. "Just holding it in isn't good for you, you know."

Stiff for a brief second more, Jack sighed heavily, raking a hand through his thick white hair. "Yeah…you would know, wouldn't you…"

With a shallow nod, the Pooka settled down beside the slim sprite, feet extended out in front of them. "You could say that, yeah. So…what is it?"

"I…" Jack swallowed and looked away, harshly biting his lower lip. "Well, a…a whole bunch of years ago, I…did have. I had this one believer -I had a _Believer_. Someone who believed in -in Jack Frost."

Bunnymund's eyebrows knit together, and he cocked his head to the side. "That's…something to cry about…?"

"No, it's-" Jack sighed, rubbing the fingertips of one hand over his lips. "It's…" he swiped the tears from his eyes, taking a shaky breath. "You've heard the story of 'The Little Match Girl,' right?"

Both of the Pooka's eyebrows shot up. "I've- of _course_ I have, Jacko, how could I have _not_? It's been around for- for _centuries_."

Jack smiled painfully, closing his eyes. "Yeah," he said tightly. "I know. Oh, I know…"

"She…" Bunnymund frowned thoughtfully, regarding the teary sprite. "She actually existed?"

"'Course she did," Jack swatted at the Pooka's arm, scowling at him. "Her name was Sarah…"

* * *

><p>Jack cocked his head to the side, regarding the girl with curly brown hair crouched in the mouth of the alley. He drifted closer, staff held across his back.<p>

She shivered spasmodically, scraping the first match against the brick wall. Cupping a hand around the bright flame, she held it close to her face.

Frowning, Jack touched down beside her, staff held behind his back. "Why are you out here all alone?" he asked, not expecting an answer.

The girl fixed him with a curious look, a harsh shiver wracking her slender frame. "I'm sorry?"

Jack stared at her uncomprehendingly. "You can see me-? No, of course not, why could she see me…? Pft…"

"No, I see you," she frowned, reaching out a slim, slightly shaking hand. "Why wouldn't I be able to? Are you some sort of ghost?" She laughed softly, rolling her eyes.

"You- you _can_ see me?!" Jack asked incredulously, breaking out into a bright, joyous grin. "No one can ever see me! Wow! What's your name?"

"Sarah," she smiled, dropping the match into the cold slush around her feet -clad in the ragged remains of some cloth- before lighting another. "Who are you?"

"Oh, I'm Jack," he smiled, shuffling a little closer. "Jack Frost."

The girl's eyes widened almost comically. "Jack-? You- you really do exist, then? Wow, oh, I always knew it!"

Jack laughed, "yup, that's me. Jack Frost. It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Sarah."

"Please, just Sarah is fine," she said, a shudder wracking her whole frame.

"And- why are you out here, Sarah?" Jack scowled, watching her light another match. "Don't you have a home to get to?"

She shook her head, averting her gaze. "No… I haven't had a home to call my own for many a year, now… I have gotten used to it, I suppose." Sarah shrugged, touching the head of a match to her already lit one.

"But -what happened to your family?" Jack's eyebrows knit together and he leaned forward, hands clasped tight in his lap.

"Died," Sarah said shortly. "It's just me left now, and…" she coughed -a ragged, rough, hacking sound that made Jack's throat hurt just hearing it. "I don't think there'll even be that for much longer."

"But-" Jack's eyes rounded. "You- you can't die! I only just met you!"

"Death waits on no one, Jack Frost," Sarah said thickly, swallowing. Her mouth tasted of blood.

He cried. Frozen tears slid down his cheeks, dropping like crystal on the ground.

"Oh, Jack…" Sarah sighed, reaching out to gently cup his cheek. She ignored the way his flesh was so cold it burned, knowing that she would not be alive long enough for the frostbite to kill her. "Don't cry; I'll be better. You know as well as I-" she coughed again, her matches tumbling from weak fingers.

Jack leapt to rescue them from the slush, shaking the bundle out and quickly passing them back. "Here, I'm sorry, I shouldn't be crying, you're the one who's-"

"Sh," she pressed a fingertip to his lips. "Calm, Jack Frost…"

"I…just wish that there was something I could do to make it easier," he sighed, feeling useless. "But all I am is cold- I can't do anything to help you."

"…Tell me a story, Jack," Sarah asked, lighting her matches. She wouldn't need them for much longer anyway. "Please?"

"I…okay," Jack settled down to get more comfortable, leaning against the wall beside her, his staff propped up next to him. "I'll try my best."

"Thank you, Jack Frost," Sarah smiled adoringly, curling up next to him. She struggled to keep her matches lit, her hands trembling from the invasive cold.

But she didn't care.

"Well…once upon a time," Jack began, closing his hands around hers to keep the flame steady, so the girl would not burn herself. He knew what to do. He hated himself for it, but he knew what to do.

He hated even more that this was not the first time he had done it, nor, he knew, would it be the last.

"Um, what sort of story do you want…?" he asked carefully, gently nudging her with his shoulder.

"A happy one," Sarah told him, staring at the flickering flame with an almost hypnotic intensity. "With happy people."

So Jack spun her a fanciful web glistening with joy and happiness; content families gathered around warm fires, plentiful food, and song in the air.

He lit her matches for her, one by one by one, when her hands grew too numb to light them herself.

"Thanks," Sarah murmured sleepily, head on his shoulder.

Humming, Jack shifted to allow her to get more comfortable, one hand going around her slender shoulders. "Anytime, Sarah…"

* * *

><p>"If…" Jack hiccupped, scrubbing a hand across his eyes. "If I hadn't been…waiting for it, for her to- I don't th-think I would have…have even noticed. She was just so cold and still, Bunny…! But she was just so peaceful, she coulda been as-sleep!"<p>

"…Oh, Jack…" Bunnymund said softly, reaching out to gently touch the boy's cheek. "I…had no idea…"

"I'm just so useless, Bunny," Jack sobbed, hands pressed to his face. "Damn it, all I can do is bring cold and death! Cold and death, cold and death! 'Jack Frost claims another life,' 'Another one lost to Jack Frost!' Bunny, it hurts, knowing that I can't help _anyone_. All I can do is kill kill kill, frostbite, death, missing limbs…! Fuck… What am I, evil?"

"Now, Snowdrop," Bunnymund admonished gently, carefully pulling the immortal teenager to himself in a loose, comforting hug. "You're not evil, trust me. You could never be evil. You're one of the nicest people I know, and I know a lot of nice people. You don't _bring_ death, death comes on its own."

Jack scoffed, coughing a little on the phlegm, but burrowed closer to the Pooka's warmth. "How would you know? You're a giant rabbit."

"I'm a warrior, mate," Bunnymund said gently, tucking Jack's head under his chin. "I used to kill for a living, remember?"

"…Oh," Jack said finally, hands clenching in Bunnymund's fur. "I never thought about that…"

"I try not to," Bunnymund shook his head, rubbing Jack's back comfortingly. "It's…not a particularly pleasant part of my past."

"Yeah…but that's different," Jack said, sitting up. "You killed because you had to. I kill and I don't mean to."

"Ah, but that right there's the point, Jacko," Bunnymund smiled gently. "You never mean to. It's not your fault. And with Sarah- if you hadn't been there, it would most likely have only been a long, cold night of slow suffering, waiting for the end to come. But with you there to help her, she…all it was, was her falling asleep. A gentle sort of passing. You see me?"

Jack looked down, curling back against the Pooka's broad, strong chest. "I…guess so. I think I see what you mean."

"You helped her, Snowflake," Bunnymund said softly, rocking back and forth, lulling the sprite into a doze. "Trust me on this. I remember her Hope, now. A sweet thing, so bright at the end. You gave her hope, Jack."

The winter sprite shook his head, but smiled, his crystalline tears dripping to melt into Bunnymund's thick grayish-silver fur. "Thanks, Bunny. I needed that…"

"I know you did, Snowdrop," Bunnymund said. "I know…"


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER TWO~**

**[Jack didn't know his second believer for very long before he was gone, like a blown-out match.]**

"…Jack?"

The white-haired boy shook his head, tightly clasping his hands over his ears. "No go away…"

"Jack?" Bunnymund frowned, crouching beside the sprite. "Wassamatter, mate? You're acting mighty strange."

"Fine, I'm fine," Jack shook his head, curling farther in on himself.

"Jack," Bunnymund shook his head, shuffling around to crouch in front of the teen. "No, you're not. You missed a meeting; you've never done that before. D'you have any idea how long it took me to find you?"

"Why's it even _matter_?" Jack snarled, glaring at the Pooka. "Is that all you came here to tell me? I missed a fucking meeting? Well _great_, you've told me, now would you just f_uck off_?"

"No," Bunnymund said flatly, crossing his arms. "I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing is wrong," Jack growled, though his lie was given by the way he couldn't meet Bunnymund's eyes. "So…go away."

"I'm not leaving," Bunnymund said, fully prepared to settle in for the long haul. "Is it…" he paused, reaching out a gentle paw to touch the boy's shoulder. "Is it like with that girl…? Sarah…?"

Jack flinched, wrapping his arms tightly around himself. "Maybe; so what if it is?"

"Tell me," Bunnymund said, pulling the boy to himself. "A burden shared is a burden halved."

Jack laughed bitterly, using the sleeves of his sweatshirt to wipe away his tears. "Yeah…it's just…it hurts. Bunny…have you ever seen someone kill themselves…?"

Bunnymund swallowed thickly, mouth suddenly feeling dry. "I…can't say I have, Jacko…"

"It hurts," Jack told him, looking at the Pooka with red-rimmed eyes. "It hurts so _fucking_ bad; and when they can _see_ you, god, it's so much worse. When they-" he broke off with a sob, burying his face in his hands. "Oh, fuck…_fuck_."

* * *

><p>Jack first noticed the boy when he was still on ground level, staring up at the building with an oddly intense look. He drifted closer, floating upside down behind the teen sitting on the concrete bench.<p>

The blonde shivered, wrapping his thin black coat tighter around himself. "Got cold fast," he said softly, looking up to the gray sky. He shook his head, sighing, and sank down on his bench.

Jack dropped down on the bench beside him, cocking his head to the side. "What's up with you, kid?" he asked, not expecting an answer.

The teen jumped, head swiveling to face the immortal teen. "Excuse me?"

Jack blinked a few times. "Um…?"

Thin gold eyebrows lowered over forest green eyes, and the teen examined the other. "Interesting get-up, there, kid."

"I'm not a kid," Jack replied automatically, scowling. "I'm older than you, I'll bet."

"I'm nineteen," the other said, flicking his hair out of his eyes. "And you?"

_Well…_ "Seventeen," Jack muttered, crossing his arms and looking down at his bare feet.

"Yeah…why the fuck aren't you wearing any shoes, anyway?" the boy asked, cocking his head to the side. "It's, like, thirty degrees out and snowed earlier."

"It's…twenty-eight, actually," Jack corrected, peering at the teenager through his thick white eyelashes. "I'm fine; cold doesn't really affect me the same way it affects most other people."

"But no shoes?" he raised an eyebrow doubtfully.

"No shoes," Jack smiled faintly. "Hey, what's your name? I'm tired of referring to you as 'you' in my head."

The blonde rolled his eyes, a small smirk playing on his lips. "Might as well tell you… My name's James Roebrook. You?"

"Uh, um, Jack," he said quickly, hands clasped in his lap. "Yeah, that's my name…Jack."

James arched an eyebrow. "You say that like you're not sure."

Jack smiled faintly. "Yeah…well. Thanks for telling me your name. But, what are you sitting out here for? It _is_ pretty cold, and you don't really look like you're dressed for this sort of weather."

Shrugging, James looked away. The fading edge of an ugly purple bruise around his throat showed above the collar of his jacket.

Jack's eyebrows lifted worriedly, and he reached out, gently touching the mark with the point of his finger. "What's this…?"

James flinched away, quickly slapping a gloved hand over the bruise. "Don't fucking touch me."

"Sorry!" Jack quickly yanked his hands back to himself, a small note of panic in his voice. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry! Did I hurt you?"

"…No," James pulled his collar higher, hiding the bruise. "You didn't." He scoffed softly, shaking his head. "I don't feel pain the same way most other people do."

"…Oh…?" Jack cocked his head to the side. "How…how did you get it?"

"Some people don't like my kind," he said, crossing his legs and staring down at his hands in his lap. James wore stylishly bleached skinny jeans tucked into loosely tied black leather boots under his long black jacket. His nails were immaculately shaped and polished in a fine French Manicure. His blonde hair was longer in the front than in the back, curled elegantly away from his face with his Aviators slipped in.

"Kind?" Jack cocked his head to the side, taking in the appearance of the boy. "What kind-? Oh, you're…"

"Gay, yes," James nodded simply, staring forward. He had no expression. "I'm a faggot."

Jack winced, looking down at his hands. "I…oh."

James smiled painfully tight, pushing his sleeve back to look at his watch. Nodding sharply, he stood, shaking his head to loosen his hair from behind his ear. "Goodbye, kid. Take care."

Eyebrows knitting, Jack hopped to his feet, following behind the teen. "Where you going?"

"There," James pointed to the skyscraper, and Jack didn't know if he was gesturing to the building in general or the peak, where his finger was directed.

"Why?" Jack asked, making sure to stick close. He lifted his feet, drifting.

"Why do you care?"

"Because honestly, I'm worried," Jack said, frowning. "So c'mon. Tell me. Please?"

"No," James said flatly, glancing back over his shoulder. He skipped a step when he noticed that Jack was, in fact, not walking, but floating, but shook his head and seemed to mock himself. "Great, floating teenager, I'm going fucking insane…"

"No, I am actually here," Jack said, drifting beside the boy. "I'm Jack Frost."

"…Bullshit," James frowned, shaking his head. "Jack Frost doesn't really exist."

"Obviously he does," Jack scoffed, rolling his eyes. "You're talking to him, dude. You can't deny that."

"I can, and I will," James said, hitting the button for the elevator repeatedly. "Hurry up hurry up hurry up…"

"I'm not going to magically disappear, you know," Jack said, touching down on the floor of the elevator beside the blonde. "That's not really my thing -now, not to say I don't actually do that, occasionally, but I don't usually, because actually usually no one can see me, so-"

James sighed, leaning forward and smacking his head against the stainless steel wall panel. "Christ. Today of all days I had to get stuck in the fucking elevator with a hyperactive spirit."

"Hey, whatever, I'm just fucking happy to have someone to talk to," Jack

waved a hand in a vaguely imperious manner, nose lifted mockingly. "Because, y'know, you're the first person to have seen me in, like, a hundred years."

"Ah, wouldn't that be nice," James rolled his eyes. "To have no one see you for a hundred years? I think I would cry of happiness."

Jack fixed him with an annoyed look. "No, not nice. Do you have any fucking idea how lonely that is? And how fucking high are we going, anyway?"

"We're headed to the very top," James said, casting his gaze skyward. "Hey, I have a quick question. Can you touch me?"

Jack frowned, cocking his head to the side, and reached out. "Nope," he sighed, staring at his hand in some mixture of consternation and agony. "Damn."

"That's a relief," James smiled faintly, looking immeasurably relieved.

Jack cocked his head to the side. "Why? And why this building? Your lover work here or something?"

James looked resigned. "Eh…he used to, but then word got out of our 'relationship' and he cast me off faster than a sack of hot rocks. Still got fired, though… It usually doesn't go well when the president of a multinational corporation finds out that his VP is fucking his son."

"…Ah," Jack blinked at him, leaning heavily on his staff. "What are you planning on doing, anyway?"

James smiled with a disturbing sort of innocence. "Wouldn't you just love to know?"

The elevator door dinged open, and James strode out, chin high -looking like he owned the world.

The blonde woman sitting at the expansive desk across from the elevator blinked at him in shock. "S- uh, James…you're…not supposed to be here…"

"I'll be gone soon enough," James smiled faintly, waving. He headed towards the wooden door tucked in the corner labeled as the janitor's closet, pulling it open and tromping lightly up the sturdy concrete steps. "Tell Daddy he'll see me soon."

Jack blinked wide eyes, dashing after the boy. "What the hell are you going to do, James?" He had a pretty good idea, though…

"What do you think, Jack?" James glanced behind him, something glistening in his eyes, before he shook his head and continued on. "You've been alone all your life -I've been alone all of mine. Is it better to be in the spotlight and alone, or invisible? It's hard to say, even though I've experienced both." He pushed open the metal door leading to the rooftop, stepping out onto the gritty surface. "Would you rather have the attention of the world focused on you? It hurts, when the man you love despises your very existence. It hurts, when your very own father curses the day you were born. No one needs me, I know. I also know for a matter of fact that life would generally be better for those around me, without me."

"You can't say that!" Jack gasped, moving to restrain the teen but passing right through. "That's not true!"

"It is, though," James smiled over his shoulder, slipping off his jacket and neatly folding it. Coiled on top was his scarf. "I've asked -I've done my research."

"But you have so much left to live for!" Jack gasped, voice filled with pain. "Why?"

"Because I _don't_ have anything, Jack Frost," James shook his head, stepping towards the low wall surrounding the edge of the building. "What? I'm only the youngest son, disgracing the family name by getting involved with a man nearly twice my age. It would have been fine if I'd kept it tasteful, but no -I'm nothing but a filthy teenaged whore, willing to fuck or get fucked by anybody who can cater to my tastes."

"James-" Jack choked back a cry, reaching forward as the boy stepped onto the wall. His tears froze to his cheeks, and he knew they would hurt later, but he didn't currently care. "Don't-"

Shaking his head, James tucked his hands into his pockets. "No…it's better this way. For everyone involved. Sorry you had to be here, Jack… Maybe I'll see you in my next life, eh?"

"No-!" Jack shrieked, dashing forward, and James tipped backwards off the wall. "No!"

The boy seemed to relax as he fell, closing his eyes to await his fate.

Jack collapsed against the wall, staff clattering to the ground, sobbing brokenly. "No, no…! Why, why, why? Why is it always-?"

* * *

><p>"I- I couldn't do <em>anything<em>," Jack sucked in a shuddering gasp, pressing the heels of his palms to his eyes in a desperate attempt to staunch his tears. "He just- just walked off, and he _died_, Bunny, he _died_. And I couldn't do _shit_. I had to- had to-" He released a desperate wail, hunching over and pressing his mouth to his knees. "Why am I so fucking useless?! I can't do anything right!"

"Jack, oh, Jack," Bunnymund said weakly, clenching his paws and feeling utterly useless himself. "No, Jack, you're not useless, you could never be useless… Don't think that…"

"But it's _true_, Bunny!" Jack exclaimed heatedly, looking up to glare at the Pooka. "I am! I can't do anything right; you've said so yourself."

"Jack, you know as well as I do that I didn't mean that," Bunnymund said sternly, reaching out and dragging the sprite closer by his shoulders. "I've never thought you were useless -and even if I had at one point in time, you'd have proved me wrong time and time again these last few years -fuck, these last few _weeks_. You're the most useful being I know, okay?"

Jack sniffled, crystal tears falling down his cheeks. "You…really? You really think so?"

"I know so," Bunnymund said, pulling the teen closer and tucking him under his chin, his strong arms wrapped comfortingly around him. "Jack, you're worth more than you think, you know. You- you're invaluable. To all of us, not just me…"

Jack sighed, staring at his fisted hand on Bunnymund's broad chest. "I…it's so hard to believe you, though. I've been…on my own…for so long. I'm…sorry, Bunny. I try, but-"

"Sh, Jacko," Bunnymund urged him, absently stroking a paw over the immortal boy's thick white hair. "I'm right here, Snowflake; I'll always be right here where you need me, okay?"

"Oh…kay," Jack hiccupped, terrified to believe him…but also desperate to. "Thank you, Bunny…"


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER THREE~**

**[He had only just gotten to know him; he couldn't leave again so soon.]**

Bunnymund swallowed thickly, painfully, silently watching the barely moving lump under the pristine white covers of the bed in North's workshop infirmary.

"Bunny…" North began softly, placing a gentle hand on the Pooka's shoulder. "You must sleep. You have been awake for three days straight, now. You watching him will not make the boy wake any faster."

Bunnymund shook his head, rubbing his paws over his face. "I…I can't leave, North, you don't understand. This is- this is all my fault. If I had just…just looked harder, asked him how he was doing more -I should have _noticed_, North!"

"I…do not think you could have noticed any sooner than the rest of us," North said comfortingly, crouching beside Bunnymund. "He was -_has_ always been too good at hiding his secrets."

"But I _know_ him, North!" Bunnymund protested heatedly, rubbing at his eyes. "I've- I should have- fuck, I just…I never expected him to do that…"

North stood, regarding his friend silently for a long moment, before nodding and gesturing to a nearby yeti. "Get another bed in here, will you, please? Bunny needs rest."

The yeti nodded obediently, scurrying off.

"…Why, Jack…?" Bunnymund asked, tenderly brushing a wisp of snow-white hair off the boy's pale forehead. "Why would you do that…? _Why_?"

* * *

><p>Bunnymund stared around the ruined remains of the crystal home, a sense of foreboding stealing through his bones. "Oh, shit… Jack!" He sprang away from the wreckage with a renewed feeling of purpose. "Jack! Where are you, Frostbite?"<p>

A brisk wind howled, making him flatten his ears to his head and a shiver run through his body. "Bloody fuck, it's cold… Jack! Where the fuck are you, mate? We haven't got time for this!"

Another sharp blast of wind nearly bowled him over, sending him skidding several feet to the side in the slick snow.

And it didn't abate, attempting to blow him backwards.

That foreboding feeling in the pit of Bunnymund's stomach grew exponentially.

He forced himself through the sudden snowstorm, his keen ears just picking up on a howling that wasn't from the freak weather. "Jack!" Bunnymund yelled, inhaling ice-cold and razor-sharp snowflakes. "Fuck, _Jack_!"

And he burst into the eye of the storm.

"…Oh…" Bunnymund said numbly, eyes wide. "Jack…"

The immortal teenager stared at the Pooka with wide, wild eyes. Layers of tears had frozen to his cheeks, giving them a glassy appearance. "B-Bunny…?"

"Jack, Jacko, hey," Bunnymund said gently, holding up his paws despite the freezing air. "Snowflake, c'mere, you need to rest…"

"Shut up!" Jack shrieked, shaking his head and backing away. He seemed to have forgotten about his ability to fly in his anguish. "Shut up, you don't know! You don't know anything, damn it!"

"Jack-" Bunnymund shuffled closer, holding out his paws pleadingly. "Please-"

"Just stop it, stop," Jack shook his head, jumping up. "You don't know, you don't, you _can't_-"

"What don't I know, Jack?" Bunnymund asked gently, edging closer. "Tell me, please, what I don't know?"

"_Anything!_" Jack dropped to his knees, and the storm rose.

"Fucking hell-!" Bunnymund yelped, struggling against the wind. He dropped to all fours, crawling forward. He could barely see the boy's blue sweatshirt through the violent flurries. "Jack! Stop! You're gonna exhaust yourself!"

And everything stopped.

Jack gave Bunnymund a truly tired look from where he was crouched in the snow, buried almost completely. "And?" he asked softly, barely able to be heard.

Bunnymund perked his ears forward -ignoring the biting air making his ears go numb- but he didn't dare move otherwise.

"What if- what if that's what I _want_, Bunny?" Jack asked mournfully, tears dripping freshly down his face.

"…No, Jacko," Bunnymund shook his head slowly, eyes wide. "You don't mean that, I know you don't…"

"Why not?" Jack asked, standing.

A small wisp of wind blew around his feet, lifting him up.

"Because _damn it_, Jack," Bunnymund jumped to his feet and shot over, tackling the boy and smearing him through the snow. "I _know_ you. This isn't the type of something that you'd do."

"Well obviously you don't know me as well as you think you do," Jack snarled, struggling against the Pooka's strong hold. "Let me go! Let me go now!"

"No!" Bunnymund shot back, ignoring the frost creeping over his fur. "I'm not, never! Jack, you're a _good_ fucking _thing_, okay? You're not the cause of death, death does _not_ follow you wherever you go!"

"What do you even care?" Jack shrieked, gripping the Pooka's fur like he would never let go. "What does it even matter? I'm _nothing_, remember? All I can do is bring death and pain and accidents wherever I go! No one needs me! I just- I just wish I wasn't even alive!"

"You don't _mean that!_" Bunnymund yelled, gripping the sides of the boy's head, eyes wide with something akin to panic. He could feel Jack's heart racing through the soft pads on his paws. "You don't…mean that," he said, softer, more mournful. "I _know_ you don't. Don't give up, Jack. Please."

The sprite seemed shocked by his outburst, and sniffled softly. "Why do you even care, Bunny?"

"I-" the Pooka paused, shaking his head. "I'll tell you when we get back to North's, Snowflake. Okay?"

"What, you can't just tell me now?" Jack asked bitterly, retracting a hand from Bunnymund's soft fur and wiping at the tears. They were starting to melt from the Pooka's ambient heat alone.

"Call it…collateral," Bunnymund said, sitting back. "Just to guarantee that you don't take off before I've said what I have to say."

"Devious asshole," Jack scowled, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet.

Bunnymund smiled weakly, taking Jack's hand in his large paw. "Just…hear me out…Jack."

* * *

><p>Jack peered at the gray anthropomorphic being snoozing fitfully in the rocking chair beside his bed, only one crystalline blue eye visible.<p>

A yeti softly opened the door and peered in -Bunnymund jerked awake, head flying up and paws snapping to grab his boomerangs. He stiffened at the realization that they weren't where they were supposed to be, then relaxed when he remembered where he was.

"Phil," he said softly, nodding to the Yeti. "Sorry about that."

The yeti made a noncommittal noise, holding out a tray to the obviously exhausted Pookan warrior.

"No- oh, cider," Bunnymund smiled faintly, clasping the cup between his paws. "Thanks…"

Nodding, Phil tucked the tray under his arm and silently left the room.

Jack took a moment to wonder on how quiet the large creature was before he redirected his gaze to Bunnymund.

Sighing softly, Bunnymund settled back in the chair, propping his feet on the low footstool and rocking back and forth. His clover green gaze drifted to the lump on the bed known as Jack Frost, and he sighed again -this time the sound was filled with self-deprecation and disdain. "Oh, Jack…"

The teenager ceased breathing, going utterly still. Had he been discovered?

"Why, Jack, why," Bunnymund shook his head, closing his eyes and taking a careful sip of his steaming hot apple cider. "What don't I know? I've lived through the decimation of my planet, everyone I grew up with no longer exists -but he's just a child. He wasn't raised to- to do the things that I was…"

Jack blinked, feeling a little ashamed of himself.

"The poor child," Bunnymund shook his head, placing a paw over his eyes. "Alone for so long, no idea why he was even around, what his purpose for being was… Hated by the Spring for what he was, what he couldn't control, hated by the Summer… Mocked by the Winter for being so sweet… Fuck, I can't even _imagine_…"

Jack tried to ignore the way his eyes burned with tears -_Damn it, haven't I cried enough already?_

"You poor, sweet child," Bunnymund said softly, sipping his cocoa. "I wish you knew how well I could relate…"

Curling tighter in on himself, Jack couldn't help but feel stupid, and oh-so-ashamed. How could he even _think_ of killing himself when others had it so much worse than he?

Bunnymund cocked his head to the side, watching the frost creep over the blankets wrapped around the immortal teenager. "Jack…?" he asked gently, setting the cup down and leaning forward slightly. "Can you hear me?"

After a beat of hesitation, Jack shifted the blankets away from his face, blinking huge eyes at the Pooka. "I…yeah…"

"How…how much did you hear?" Bunnymund asked carefully, paws pressed together in his lap.

"I…since," Jack swallowed, mouth dry, and licked his lips anxiously. "Since Phil came in."

"Oh," Bunnymund sighed in relief, settling back. "Okay. How…how are you feeling, Jack?"

"I'm fine," the sprite mumbled, shuffling upright and pulling the blankets over his head, like a nun's hood. "M'not gonna pop off and try to go kill myself again or anything…"

Bunnymund winced, resting a paw on the side of Jack's bed. "Jack…"

"I'm _fine_, really," Jack mustered up a shallow smile, sure it wasn't convincing at all, but trying anyway.

He had deep dark patches under his eyes, and his skin was even more unnaturally pale than usual.

"Jacko, you look like you've had a rather intimate encounter with Death," Bunnymund said flatly, scraping his chair closer.

"Death happens to be a rather nice fellow," Jack sniffed, crossing his arms. "Kind of a prick, but no more than you, and I-" he cut himself off, quickly looking away. "I…I don't hate you, now, do I."

Bunnymund arched an eyebrow, but dropped it, looking down at his gray paws. "Jack…"

"…Shut up, Bunny," Jack shook his head. "I last met him in '68. Remember that year?"

The Pooka swallowed thickly, nodding slowly.

"That…yeah," Jack tucked his nose into the blankets. "That's when I met him, last time. I- I did…I snapped. That was the…the fifth time, I think."

_Oh good god._

"And- and every time, he-" Jack shook his head bitterly. "I ask him, I beg him, I scream and shout and that god-damn stubborn _mother fucker_ says _no_. He says I've still got 'stuff' to live for," he spat mockingly, upper lip curled in a snarl. "_What might that be?_"

A thick layer of frost coated the bed, making Bunnymund's fur stand on end and crackle on his paws painfully.

Setting gentle paws on the boy's hands, Bunnymund carefully pried them away from his tear-glassed face. "Jack, Snowflake, you have _everything_ to live for. You are a darling, wonderful being, and you have nothing you need to regret yourself for. _Nothing_."

"That's easy for you to say, oh great-and-powerful Pooka warrior," Jack said flatly, eyes cold and dark. "You- you're the embodiment of fucking _Spring_. Why don't you hate me? You should hate me. Fuck, _I_ hate me."

"Jack-" Bunnymund paused, shaking his head. "Jack…I…I could never hate you."

The teen peered at him distrustfully through thick white eyelashes. "Why?"

"Because…" Bunnymund looked down, rubbing his thumbs over the backs of Jack's hands. They looked so small compared to his… "Jack, I could never hate something I love."

The sprite ceased to breathe. "Wh-_what_-?" he squeaked, eyes going wide. "I- holy fuck, I couldn't have heard you right, no, no…"

"Jack, Snowflake," Bunnymund lifted a paw to press against the boy's cheek. "I…do. I do. I love you. As much as I love Spring. I used to hate winter until I met you, but then -it's not all cold and flurries and frostbitten ears with you, like it is with the other sprites. I adore you, Jack. I'm…" he took a deep breath, his clover green gaze dropping to the blankets that had been left to pool around the boy. "I'm sorry…if you think it's freakish, or unnatural, my being a Pooka and all. Giant space rabbit and whatnot…"

Jack winced, briefly flashing back on all the times he had teased Bunnymund with that same adage. "Bunny…I…I don't…no, I don't think it's freakish," he said, shuffling closer to the Pooka, placing his hands in the thick fur on his cheeks. "I just…don't…understand. Why…how could you…even…?"

"You're beautiful, Jack," Bunnymund told him seriously, leaning forward and briefly touching his damp nose to the boy's forehead. "And not just on the outside, either. You're even lovelier on the inside."

Jack chuckled weakly, ducking his head to hide under Bunnymund's chin. "Where's you steal that from, a Hallmark card?"

Bunnymund scoffed, settling back in the rocking chair and shuffling Jack until he was resting comfortably in his lap. "Who are you kidding, Snowdrop? Hallmark steals from me."

* * *

><p><strong>[Epilogue]<strong>

"Snowdrop," Bunnymund said, tracing his pawpads over the ridges of the sprite's spine.

"Mm?" Jack hummed, stretching languidly but making no move to sit up. "What is it, Bunny?"

"It's…Aster," he said softly, rubbing his chin over the top of the sprite's head. "Eversong Aster Bunnymund."

"…Oh?" now Jack did sit up, blinking with something akin to awe at the Pooka. "That's your…oh. _Oh_. I- thank…you. Thank you. For trusting me. With that."

The Pooka smiled fondly, ruffling the teenager's thick white hair. "Thank you for trusting me, Jack."

Blushing frostily, Jack looked down and away, twining his fingers in the thick ruff of fur around Bunnymund's neck. "I, uh, yeah…yeah. I…yeah."

Bunnymund hummed, pulling the boy down to lean against him again. "I know, Snowdrop. I know."


End file.
